Sunset over Sedona

The picture above is from Wikimedia Commons. It is a sunset over the Red Rocks area near Sedona, Arizona; I don't know when it was taken. And I don't know what the sunset looked like over Sedona on October 7, 2009, but I do know that it was the last one that Kirby Brown, James Shore, and Liz Neuman ever saw.

Tomorrow is the one-year anniversary of the fatal James Ray sweat lodge. I will have more (much more) tomorrow.

A moviemercial whose time has come

Okay, What The Bleep Bloop!? Down The Robot Hole doesn't exist quite yet, but while we're waiting, there's Salty Droid's blog. His videos just keep getting better and better, as demonstrated in his October 4 blog post. Even if you've never heard of any of the players in this video – and to tell the truth, I hadn't heard of many of them until I read his blog – you'll get a kick out of it, if you can suppress your anger at the con that has apparently been going on for a long time.

The sounds of silence (or, the emperor's new CD)

I'm putting the finishing touches on a real (and lengthy) blog post, which will go up within the next couple of days, but I just had to take a very brief snippet break, Dear Ones, and tell you about another exciting new product I found out about only a couple of days ago. Let's say you've checked out some of those magickal "clearing audios" presented by Mr. Fire and his partner Pat (I wrote about one such product on this post, and a magickal audio product is also part of this exciting deal). But maybe these products, and the many others in those two guys' "clearing" series, haven't quite done the trick. Well, don't give up on the power of audio just yet. If Pat's music doesn't seem to be changing your life, and Mr. Fire's bizarre vocalizations rub you the wrong way, why not try... hold on to your witch's or wizard's hat... utter silence?!?

An alert reader sent me a link the other day to a sales page for a new CD being touted by Mr. Fire protege Jennifer McLean. The CD is an offering from "world renowned Spiritual Teacher, author and presenter" Jo Dunning. Says the blurb on the sales page:

[Jo Dunning] is well known for her unusual ability to use energy from Source to transform lives and Awaken consciousness. She is referred to as a Miracle Maker because of the profound changes which often take place in the lives of an entire audience.

Isn't it amazing how many hundreds and hundreds of these would-be New-Wage stars all possess the very same "unusual" abilities? As Inigo Montoya famously remarked in The Princess Bride about the word "inconceivable," I'm thinking that maybe "unusual" does not mean what Ms. McLean, or Jo Dunning, or whoever wrote that copy, thinks it means. 

But I digress. The miracle that Jo Dunning has committed to CD is absolute silence. But not just any silence, my pretties; it is Silence with a capital "S," for it is infused with Jo's pure, powerful energies – her most powerful transformative energies available, according to the sales page. Each CD is apparently created specifically for the buyer (or for the person with whom the buyer is gifting the CD; to tell the truth I'm not sure exactly how the exclusivity deal works).

The beautiful thing about it is that you can turn the CD up full blast at work or home or in public or wherever, and while your own life will be transformed, no one around you will be affected. (Try doing that with, say, Mr. Fire's robotic intonations on the Oil Clearing Audio.) The copy for Jo's CD says, "Now you can change your life anywhere, anytime, without anyone else even knowing."

(I would be willing to bet that if you're really sneaky, you can do it without you even knowing.)

And the higher you turn up the volume on the Silence, the more energy you will receive.

Best of all, it starts working right away...

As you begin to feel the energy of this special & powerful CD you will
know your life is about to change in magnificent ways.

But there is a caveat:

PLEASE NOTE: this product is designed for those willing and wanting to make a SIGNIFICANT energy shift into a MUCH higher vibrating realm.

The retail price for this silent CD is normally $147, but you can get it for only $97, which is a limited-time offering for those who are registered with Jennifer McLean's Healing With The Masters program. The offer is good through Tuesday, September 28.

Oops.

Well, hey, I just received the email late at night on September 28, so don't blame me. Maybe if you act now you can still get it for that amazing low price, but you should be aware that it will take four to six weeks. (But it's well worth the wait, we're assured.)

Anyway, here's the link to that hundred-dollar (or more) Silence. As my guy Ron said, "It's the digital equivalent of emperor's new clothes!"
Unbelievably exciting... or maybe just unbelievable.

* * * * *

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Inspiration from the Good Book (and the Bad Audio File)

Dear Ones, this has been an overwhelming week for me, a week filled equally with miracles and horrors. Not only was there The Miracle of the Meat, which left me wonderstruck, but I also accidentally accessed the Higher Planes (or perhaps the Underworld; it's difficult to say) and I was able to tune into a 36-minute Secret Transmission. My ears beheld a conversation among an elite group of inspired Masters who were laying the groundwork for a grand scheme, a scheme of Biblical proportions.

I was even more wonderstruck, and so I sat down to write about what I had heard, but found myself at a very rare loss for words. But the Good Lord guided my hand anyway, and She/He/It said unto me, "The words will come in due time. But you know what they say about pictures." So here you are (click on it for an enlarged view). The words, I suspect, will come later.
Then again, if you insist on words now, you can always go here. And if you do, be sure to watch the video too.

Meat the Master: in which Cosmic Connie witnesses a real miracle

Dear Ones, I have something to confess to you. Most of you know me as a snark who scoffs at many things, including and especially the entire idea of miracles. But the truth is – and some of you more savvy readers have read between the lines and have detected the yearning soul who trembles beneath this snarky cloak – I long for tangible miracles in my life. Why, I even wrote about this longing years and years ago, on my old Cosmic Relief web site, during the heyday of Millennial madness when many feared that the world, or at least civilization, would end at the stroke of midnight on January 1, 2000. Here is what I wrote (and I hope you will pardon the royal-"we" affectation):

THESE are the days of miracles and wonders? Oh, we only wish. Either we've led a really wicked life, or the recently* discovered "God module" in our temporal lobe is severely underdeveloped. Or maybe it's just that we never did hallucinogenics.
Whatever the cause, the unhappy truth is that angels don't whisper in our ear, deities don't dictate sacred texts to us, and dead spiritual masters refuse to use us as a mouthpiece.
To add insult to injury, the dolphins at Sea World treat us with disdain, the Weeping Jesus picture just rolls its eyes at us, The Face on Mars stuck its tongue out at us, and the statue of Ganesh laughed so hard at us that the milk squirted out of its nose...er...trunk.
Worst of all, aliens from UFOs have never taken us into their vessels to poke at our naughty bits (oh, but we keep hoping...)
Life, alas, is just so mundane for us. All of the tortillas, billboards, cinnamon buns, and porch lights we've ever encountered are just tortillas, billboards, buns, and porch lights. No face of the Lord, no nunly visage, no apparition of the Virgin, no secret signs of the End Times. (Okay, on one of our quests we did find a misshapen dog-turd that bore a striking resemblance to the face of evangelist Pat Robertson -- pious smirk and all -- but we just couldn't get the media interested.)

The Millennium came and went and, as far as we... I mean I can tell, the world didn't end. Eventually I created my own Whirled. It was fun from the get-go, but still something was missing. My life remained bereft of the type of miracle that draws bored reporters and long lines of desperate believers to one's front door. Except for some isolated experiences with statues, which I wrote about a few years ago, discernible miracles have been few and far between in my life.

Of course I pretended not to care. On the surface I was a happy snarker – a livid one, as one of my snargets has described me – but beneath it all flowed a deep, deep river of discontent. I still felt so... well... left out. Overlooked. Utterly under-appreciated by the Higher Power(s).

And then, and then... last night... Something Happened. 

It was so wondrous that it shook my Whirled. 

It made me re-examine my entire life.

It made me want to write one-sentence paragraphs.

Or even one-word paragraphs.

Really.

Here's the deal: Last night Ron took me into the Big City (that would be Houston) for dinner at a restaurant that I will not name for reasons that will soon become apparent. We'd been there numerous times before and had always enjoyed superb food and service. 

But last night was over the top.

Being in a carnivorous frame of mind and feeling a bit extravagant, I decided to go all out with one of the most expensive steaks on the menu. I was famished and couldn't wait to dig into it when it arrived.

But something stopped me. On that succulent piece of meat I beheld a Face, clear as could be. It was an oddly familiar mug with a toothsome smile. At first I thought it was a demon. Then it kind of looked like an obnoxious ex-boyfriend of mine. And then I realized that it was...oh, my Goddess, the Face of the Master.

It was... it was... Himself. It was The Big T. As in Tony Robbins. The undisputed king of the selfish-help industry.

I gasped.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Ron asked, his mouth full of New York strip steak. Speechless, I pointed to The Face. 

Ron's eyes widened.

He put down his fork, whipped out his cell phone and began snapping photos.

By then a small crowd had gathered around our table. Most people instantly recognized The Face. Many were astounded; some were crying. People were Tweeting and Facebooking about it. A reporter from a local TV station happened to be dining at a table near us and contacted her producer, and before I knew it there were camera crews and bright lights in my face. I became a minor celebrity for a while. I signed autographs, did a couple of mini-interviews, even landed a book contract.

Finally, I had the miracle I had been waiting for. In spades. Well, in a steak, anyway.

But the fact remained that I was still hungry and feeling more fiercely carnivorous than ever. So instead of preserving that wondrous cut of beef, I scarfed it down, much to the dismay of some of the miracle seekers who were still crowded around us. Others, however, cheered me on. They said this was the ultimate self-empowering thing for me to do. They assured me that there was no better way to Awaken the Giant Within than to consume an image of The Giant himself.

I noticed that the steak tasted a little "off," but I didn't care; I was that famished.

Back at home a few hours later, I bitterly regretted my choice to eat the miracle meat. I became violently ill, and am only just now recovering. Some may call that poetic justice or instant karma for destroying the evidence of a miracle, and perhaps they're right. But I really didn't destroy anything. After all, I still have those photos. The miracle lives on and continues to unfold in my life in mysterious ways. Now I am seeing The Face everywhere. What does it all mean? Stay tuned...

* Well, the discovery of the God module was "recent" in 1997, anyway.

* * * * *

Now more than ever, your donation is needed
to help keep this Whirled spinning.
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Just a snippet or two for now

Oh, dear. It seems I've been neglecting my Whirled again. I only blogged once in August and here we are, well into September. It's been a busy-in-a-good-way late summer, a relief after an early summer marked by crisis situations such as tending to a grievously injured friend (who is doing much better now) and a dog we thought was on her last legs, literally (she too has greatly improved). I am actually working on a couple of real blog posts as time permits, and by "working on" I mean that I'm trying to consolidate tons of information into marginally readable posts. Meanwhile, a few snippets just to help break in the new month (well, it's new for me, anyway)...

JAR: WTF?
Although it's actually September 9 as I'm publishing this post, I began it on September 8 (hence the date stamp). We're now less than a month away from the one-year anniversary of the James Arthur Ray sweat lodge tragedy at Sedona, which broke on October 8, 2009. Tempus fugit. There's still no word on exactly when James will have his day in court; his manslaughter trial was originally supposed to begin on August 31 of this year but, as you probably know, was postponed till some time in 2011. Last I heard, his legal team was still trying to get a change of venue too.

Meanwhile, James – or, more likely, one of his few remaining minions – continues to Tweet inanely and, some would say, insensitively, writing about topics such as owning up to one's own shadow and purging oneself of one's past. These thoughts are interspersed with quotations from the Buddha and other spiritual greats, along with the occasional report about James' day-to-day activities. An example of the latter is this gem on September 5:

Just got back from the store... Getting geared up for one of the very rare occassions [sic] when I try my hand at the grill. Look out Labor Day :)

I haven't been following his detractors' responses to his tweets lately, but with that one James Arthur definitely left himself open to some acerbic remarks about his cooking skills. Even as I write this I am reminded once again that he may very well have backed himself into one of those damned-if-he-does and damned-if-he-doesn't corners that I've mentioned here on occasion. No doubt he has long since reached the point where anything he does or doesn't do, or writes or doesn't write, will earn jeers from someone. But I really think he would do better to err on the side of silence, especially with those tweets.

No such luck, though. He is apparently still trying to eke out a living by making lame videos at his home, conducting teleseminars, and joint-venturing with the few people who are still willing to partner with him. But at least he isn't holding those pricey LGAT events any more. Speaking of which, someone sent me links many months ago to one of James Ray's online photo albums that featured shots from some of those events.

I found many of the pictures more than a little appalling, especially those in which it appears that James used his demonic coercive-persuasion skills to make people do some very odd things on stage. I saw one middle-aged woman grabbing her breasts for Goddess-knows-what reason, another lady doing a chicken walk across the stage, an elderly gentleman who was apparently crab-walking, and a middle-aged guy who was either break-dancing or attempting to dodge something that someone was throwing at him. Judging from the scribbles on the flip-chart page in the pics, these strange actions had something to do with "getting it" as opposed to "not getting it." There was, however, no explanation on the site about what was going on – nothing more than a series of random shots that appeared to depict people making buffoons of themselves while James grinned demonically in the background.

Were these folks having some sort of great breakthrough, or were they just being silly? Either way, wasn't it just a little bit vulgar of the James Ray team to photograph these profound, or profoundly silly, moments and slap them up on the Web for all the world to see? That's not much better than posting pictures on Facebook of your friends passed out drunk with their heads hanging over the toilet.*

To me these pics are a reminder that anyone who attends an LGAT event these days pretty much has to sign away his or her rights to privacy (and dignity) of any kind. Here's one example of the waiver and publicity release that James Ray's attendees had to sign. Unfortunately, some attendees ended up losing much more than their privacy.

In related news, my copy of a new book, Tragedy in Sedona: My Life in James Arthur Ray's Inner Circle by Connie Joy, just arrived today. Some defenders of James and the self-help industry will no doubt say this work is yet another attempt to exploit the tragedy and indict the entire self-help industry, and they might dismiss it for that reason. That would be a mistake, for the author is not one of those snarky bloggers and armchair critics that the defenders so love to hate; rather, she is someone who was once a devoted follower of Ray. Ms. Joy and her husband attended no less than 27 James Ray events over a period of three years. In a note at the beginning, publisher Ginny Weissman says that she only considered the manuscript after the author assured her it would not be a muckraking work "written to frighten the reader about the spiritual self-help movement." Indeed, it seems clear that this book is not a hatchet job or a damnation of the self-help industry. I'm anxious to read it, and, of course, I'll let you know what I think when I'm done. At the very least, maybe the book will provide me with some insights about those disturbing chicken-walking and boob-grabbing pics.


IM hustledorkery fails another person
As reported late last month by attorney Mike Young, who specializes in Internet marketing, a fledgling IM'er and big Law of Attraction proponent named Ellery Bennett was recently charged with murdering his wife.

Ellery, who either quit a lucrative position as a pharmaceutical sales rep or had it quit him, had built quite a Web presence for himself, including the expected blogs, Twitter account, Facebook page, and so forth. On his Twitter account, which apparently hasn't been updated since February, his user name is "Golfin," and his bio reads: "Fired My Boss to Coach, Personal Development, Internet Entrepreneur, Law Of Attraction. Play Golf. Social Media. Flourish and Prosper." The bio also includes a web site link, but it redirects to an international credit card payment page for Lord knows what.

Blogger Mike Young wrote:

Like others in Internet marketing, Ellery Bennett made the major mistake of believing he could fake it until he made it. As the hole got deeper, he had to choose whether to keep digging or stop.

There is more to life than online business success. As you look at Ellery Bennett’s videos and websites, you get a picture of someone who wanted nothing more than the freedom to stay at home and spend time with his wife and daughter. But in chasing the dream, it cost him everything.

In his PS he added:

If the Internet gurus who sold Ellery Bennett on how to get rich online had an ounce of decency, they’d take the money he invested in their flopportunities and give the money to Bennett’s 10-year-old daughter. She’s going to need alot of psychological and financial support in the coming years.

This is a sad story, and it seems clear that Mr. Bennett had serious problems not related to IM hustledork circle-jerkery. But that whole IM/LOA spiel apparently didn't make his life any better, and arguably may have made it much worse. I'm glad Mike Young posted the story, and glad that he inspired others to share their own tales of IM myth versus reality. Here's that link again.

By the way, in one of his comments on the discussion following his blog post, Mike noted, "Currently, there are no less than 4 convicted felons working online as gurus." One reader responded that it was a shame that Mike couldn't name those people, and Mike replied:

The convicted felons are a matter of public record. You can easily identify them because they brag about their pasts, usually as being misunderstood victims of the government...

Offhand, though, I can't think of anyone who fits that description. Oh, wait. I can.

Middle-aged fangirlies: the more things change...
I'll wind this up on a lighter note, and one that is not closely related to the normal subject matter of this blog. It is, however, marginally related to my "day job," as a few years ago Ron and I were involved in a dubious book project about former American Idol contender Clay Aiken. (I mentioned it briefly on this August 2008 post; scroll down to, "And Melissa Etheridge isn't either!") Let me just say that in the course of helping our client with this book, Ron and I learned more about Clay Aiken fan culture than we ever, ever wanted to know. Poor Clay; all he ever really wanted to do was sing his heart out, but in so doing he attracted an almost rabid following of fans, the vast majority of whom seemed to be "women of a certain age." They called themselves Claymates, a term that was apparently coined by fans but which Clay's lawyers later tried to trademark (along with several other fan-originated neologisms. Clay had him some nasty legal people.) I don't think the attorneys ever succeeded in the trademarking, but they definitely made their presence known during and after the creation of that book I mentioned.

In any event, Claymates are sooo 2003-2006. Nowadays the Glamberts have taken center stage in the world of wacky fandom. Glamberts are mostly middle-aged women who have gone bat sh-t crazy over Adam Lambert, yet another American Idol contender who, like Clay, almost won but didn't, much to the profound heartbreak of his ardent supporters. To tell the truth, I barely know who Adam Lambert is (I keep getting him mixed up with the guy in Twilight), but this feature in the Houston Chronicle the other day clarified things for me. As I read the story I had an icky feeling of deja vu.

Glamberts don't care a whit that their idol is gay; he makes them feel hot and sexy, and inspires many to dress as if they are, glitter and all. They fall asleep and awaken to his music, many make pilgrimages to as many of his concerts as they can manage, and, according to the author of the Chron piece: "They champion his causes, spout off biographical information, and rush to defend his honor." At Glambert meet-ups they "squawk over each other and share stories. ('We played Adam scrabble one night!')." These are, it must be remembered, women in their 40s, 50s, 60s, and beyond.

You might think this is kind of pathetic, and maybe it is, but at least these ladies enjoy one clear advantage over their Claymate predecessors: they've known from the outset that the object of their idolatry is a practitioner of what was once referred to as the love that dare not speak its name. The Claymates, on the other hand, were in deep denial for years, reinforced by Clay's own public proclamations that no, he was NOT gay.** (Talk about the love that dare not speak its name...) Claymates argued passionately, and often indignantly, in favor of their hero's heterosexuality. ("How could he be gay? He's a born-again Christian!" "His momma would snatch him bald-headed if he wuz a 'mo!" "He's definitely straight, and I'll prove it to the world when I marry him (or when my daughter, granddaughter, or great-granddaughter marries him)." "Anyone with such horrible taste in sweaters couldn't be gay!" And so on.) Then the infamous People magazine article came out, shattering the dream-world of more than one horny grandma.

At least the Glamberts aren't setting themselves up for disappointment on the sexual-orientation front. Still there is something a little bit disturbing to me about the prospect of women who are drawn to seek, as the Chron author puts it, "suburban salvation in the form of a slickly produced pop star."

***

Well, that's it for now, Dear Ones. I will be back very soon with a real post.

* Yeah, I know what you're going to say. I posted the JAR participant pics too. But at least I disguised the faces.
** After this post first published, a reader who is a Clay Aiken fan pointed out to me that back in the day before he came out, Clay only publicly denied his orientation once, and for the most part evaded the question and said he would rather focus on his music. See the comments section for more.

Council or Cartel? You decide

Dear Ones, I apologize for not blogging for a couple of weeks. (Did you miss me?) I've had this post in the hopper for at least two weeks and decided I might as well finish and publish it before it becomes even more long and meandering than it already is. (If some of it looks familiar, it's because I borrowed a few passages from comments I'd previously made on Salty Droid's blog. I've also written about some of this stuff in earlier blog posts.)

As you may know, late last month the exclusive New-Wage guru club, the Transformational Leadership Cartel...er...Council, aka the TLC, wrapped up its semi-annual meeting and sent its attending members back on their respective merry ways, presumably refreshed and renewed and primed to help each other sell millions of dollars worth of new products and events. The TLC has been described by some as the Bilker...um, I mean the Bilderberg Group for the leading lights in the personal-growth industry.

As is the case with most excloooosive orgs, TLC's Top-Seekrit meetings are always held in posh and trendy spots; the recently adjourned gathering was in Santa Fe, in the Land of Enchantment. TLC also holds a meeting every January, generally around the time of Cosmic Connie Day (I'm honored and humbled); this past January it was in Puerto Rico. The July meetings, interestingly enough, are held very close to Whirled Musings Day (once again, I am humbled and honored).

What goes on at a TLC meeting? Oh, the usual: naked pagan rituals that include old men dancing nude and urinating on trees in old-growth forests; simulated human sacrifices; the porking of young male prostitutes... no, wait. That's Bohemian Grove, the summer camp for conservative politicians and other filthy-rich power brokers. My mistake.

The truth is that few folks outside of the members and those very close to them know what goes on at a TLC meeting because, hey, it's Top Seekrit. Although the occasional underground video gets leaked (see the bit below about New-Wage torture), it's very hush-hush for the most part. Well, except for all the tweeting and blogging by those who can't get over themselves for being TLC members (again, see below). And then there are those who don't seem to be listed as members but get to experience a meeting anyway, as did Soulwave Institute founder Katie Darling, who wrote about speaking at a Mexico TLC gathering in January 2006. (This was just before The Secret really hit, which is why there's no mention of it in the post. There is, however, a mention of the Victoria's Secret catalog and its possible role in getting Katie to the TLC.)

A little history...
You can skip over this part if you already know it; you won't hurt my feelings. It's merely a rudimentary review of the Transformational Leadership Council's history and some of its esteemed members. The TLC was formed in 2004 by Jack Canfield, perhaps best known for his hand in the Chicken Soup for the Soul franchise, also fairly well known for being a motivational coach, later very well known for being in The Secret, and perhaps less known for being a New-Wage Daddy Dearest. Damn, I don't know what happened with that font sizing. Blogger must be acting up again.

What was to become the TLC initially convened at Jack's home in Santa Barbara, California; the second meeting was at the Mendocino County ranch of John "Mars and Venus" Gray, (who is also mentioned in this article) and it just took off from there. Since that time the group has met twice a year, in January and July. Membership has grown steadily but is by invitation only, meaning that one has to be nominated by a TLC member and voted in (or not).

In the summer of 2005, at the TLC meeting in Aspen, Colorado, an Aussie TV producer named Rhonda Byrne descended upon the gathering and conducted a series of interviews that became the foundation of The Secret. Almost all of the speakers featured in her famous moviemercial are TLC members, though not all who were interviewed were enamored of the project, especially as they learned more about it (e.g., Kathlyn and Gay Hendricks).
James Arthur "Death" Ray was of course one of the luminaries in the film and, more relevant to the topic of this post, he was one of the founding members of the TLC, though his name was removed from their web site a couple of weeks after Sweatgate happened. I still don't know whether he was officially ousted or was just temporarily removed from "member in good standing" status pending the outcome of his manslaughter trial (whenever that may be).

Bill Harris, now known as much for threatening his critics as he is for his pricey Holosync scheme, is also a founding member of TLC and, notwithstanding his bad behavior regarding said critics, is still listed on the TLC site. For you nostalgic types, here's a blog post about Billy from none other than James Ray, written in the happier days of the summer of 2006, when The Secret had just taken wing and was soaring to giddy heights.

I just wanted to give you a quick "heads up" about an incredible opportunity to meet with me and a good friend of mine.
As you may know, I'm a member of an amazing mastermind group of some of the most influential leaders in personal and spiritual development called the Transformational Leadership Council. Many of whom contributed to the movie The Secret with me.
Well, my good friend, Bill Harris (founder of Centerpointe Research Institute and creator of Holosync Audio Technology) is also a member of the TLC.
Our next TLC meeting is going to be held near Vancouver, BC, and Bill has decided to do something special for his local friends, readers and clients (and he has graciously allowed me to invite you as well)...
It's called "An Evening With Bill with Special Guest James Arthur Ray."
...By the way, when Bill and I get together, it's... well... it's just electric. The excitement and energy literally pulsates throughout the room. If you've heard any of our previous interviews, you know what I mean. It often ends up being like point/counter point, and it always promises to be fun and informative...

But that was then, and this is now. Still, despite Death Ray's troubles and his being bumped from the TLC rolls, apparently he and Billy got married, as announced earlier this year on Salty Droid's blog. Isn't it romantic?
Two others listed as founding members of TLC are Marcia Martin, who is a co-founder of est, which later morphed into The Forum and then into The Landmark Forum; and Belgian Feng Shui expert Marie Diamond, aka Marie Vyncke, one of the lesser known Secret stars. Marie was later the target of a lawsuit involving her failure to deliver more than fifty thousand dollars' worth of copies of The Secret (a lawsuit that she apparently lost), but it must not have been a very serious matter because her name remains on the TLC rolls.

And speaking of The Secret, if I remember correctly Rhonda Byrne was also listed at one time as a TLC member, but her name is not on the list now and apparently hasn't been for a long time. Could it be because of all those legal troubles that revealed a greed too blatant even for the usual New-Wage love-and-lightwashing? No matter; her absence from the TLC members list online hasn't stopped at least some TLC'ers (specifically, those who were stars of The Secret) from promoting her new book, The Power, which has been steadily climbing the bestseller lists even though it hasn't even been released yet. Lawsuits or not, the "teachers" in The Secret, even those who aren't in the TLC and probably never will be, are still getting mucho mileage out of their part in that franchise. And, as many of you may recall, TLC founder Jack Canfield wrote the blurb for Rhonda when Time magazine named her as one of the 100 most influential people of 2007. He marveled at Rhonda's perpetual state of childlike bliss as The Secret project progressed:

Even when she ran out of film, when the money to complete the next phase of the project hadn't yet materialized or when her original TV distribution deal fell through, to her it was always "perfect." She radiated a confidence and a trust that it was all being handled perfectly by the universe. Obstacles that would defeat most people didn't seem to daunt her. She just kept moving forward in joyous faith that it would all work out. What I didn't realize at the time was that the way she was living her life and approaching her work was teaching me even more about how to live in harmony with her Law of Attraction than her movie or book.

Her Law of Attraction? Hmmm.

According to an article in The Australian magazine, Jack also spoke up for Rhonda when her legal troubles started coming to light in 2008:

Unfortunately, the teachers from the film who were contacted by this magazine were reluctant to discuss the current litigation, including Rhonda Byrne herself, who declined repeated requests for comment. The one exception was Jack Canfield, “America’s #1 Success Coach”, who believes that the bad publicity generated by the lawsuits is merely a “blip” in the relentless global spread of The Secret.
Like all of those who appeared in the film – except Esther Hicks – Canfield received no payment, but says he has benefited many times over from the exposure. And Byrne, he says, has since donated $400,000 to the Transformational Leadership Council he runs with several teachers from the film. “I think all of us … thought that was a generous amount,” he says.

So did TLC oust Rhonda despite her generosity, or is the absence of her name from the site an error? Or is she not officially a member but just an extraordinarily supportive friend? I've been Googling here and there but keep running into brick walls. Maybe someone less lazy and more determined than I am could find out for certain.

Another match made in hustledork heaven
Despite all that has happened with the stars of The Secret, and notwithstanding the rising tide of criticism of their industry, the members of the TLC are apparently still laboring hard to convince themselves and everyone else that they are part of a very special group that is striving to elevate humanity. If only humanity would quit resisting, snarking, criticizing, or — most nervy of all — getting injured or croaking under their tutelage.
Last summer the TLC gang gathered in Bermuda, and I blogged about that meeting on July 26, 2009.

This was the day after Colleen Conaway had met her tragic end at a James Ray event in San Diego, and James and his top people covered it up, although at that time I knew nothing of this tragedy. Sweatgate was still two and a half months in the future. (I'm probably far from the only person who longs for a Quantum Leap type scenario in which we could go back in time and stop it from happening....)

Though he was still a member at the time, James was not at that summer 2009 TLC meeting in Bermuda, because, of course, he was busy destroying lives in San Diego. Regarding his alleged ousting from the TLC, it isn't surprising that there have been no public statements from the organization one way or the other, since the Cartel is, after all, a Seekrit Club, and they don't go broadcasting their stuff. However, as noted above, some of their members do love to blog and tweet about how exclusive the whole thing is and how proud they are to be a part of it.

Case in point: Steve Pavlina, aka Pervlina, who, as he did last year, once again boasted at length in his falsely modest way about what an honor it is to be a member of the TLC. What he both loves and hates about the TLC, he says, is that everyone there is so darned authentic. They have all the dirt on him — his D/s activities, his bankruptcy, his felonious past, and so on — and by golly, they still love him, or so he claims.

He particularly seems enamored of Joe Vitale, writing:

Joe and I have something in common in that we are both content machines. He’s authored 52 books, for instance, and he’s constantly giving birth to new products. I haven’t been working in this field as long as he has, but I’ve authored a respectable 1000 articles in less than 6 years, which is enough to fill about 25 books… not to mention getting one actual book published as well.

By the way, Steve's book was published by none other than Hay House, New-Wage dowager queen Louise Hay's baby. Even Joe, with all of his 52-and-counting books, hasn't achieved that yet, though he has implied that he would like to be a Hay House author like his friends Jerry and Esther Hicks and their imaginary friend collective, Abraham. Joe really admires Louise, though he was surprised she hadn't heard much about him when he visited her a couple of years ago and gifted her with his works. (I'm thinking that if he can't get a good deal through her traditional publishing arm, Hay House, maybe he can self-publish through her recently-launched Balboa Press.)


But I digress. Pervlina adored what Joe had to say about inspiration during his talk to the TLC. Gushed Steve, “He was simply brilliant.” Apparently Joe's sweetie Nerissa shot a video of this bril presentation, which Joe posted in six parts on his blog. It provides a little insight about the TLC meeting; f'rinstance, judging from the banner behind Joe's head, it seems that the theme for this summer's gathering was "The Excellence Effect." Wow, excellence: shades of 1980s Corporate America hustledorkdom. Tom Peters, where are you?

Anyway, here's a link to Part 1 of Joe's talk, which appears to be built around a form of New-Wage torture known as whiteboarding. This is a devious technique whereby the torturer scribbles a bunch of crap on a whiteboard (alternatively a flip-chart pad) or, as in this case, convinces a couple of volunteers to do the scribbling for him or her. Notice in this one how Joe is hypnotically trying to undress the female volunteer with only the power of his mighty mind, causing her to continually tug at her gauze frock to keep it from slipping down. I didn't watch long enough to see who won, Joe or the frock. I find that I don't really care all that much.

Whiteboarding is insidious because it causes the torturer's captive audience to be temporarily overcome by the sense that they are drowning in profundity and wisdom, when in fact all that is happening is that their brain cells are being whited out, one by one. In this case, as I discovered by skipping ahead to watch the last few minutes of Part 6, the talk ended with Joe's whiteboard wiped clean of words and rendered as empty as a New-Wage follower's mind is supposed to be in preparation for being invaded by the Divine (near as I can understand it, anyway).

The whiteboard shtick seems to be pretty much the same thing that Joe has used in the past, on more than one occasion, I'm guessing. Hey, if you have a spiel that works, why not use it again and again? Comedians do, after all. It's all entertainment. Anyhow, here's what the August 12 entry on the Mr. Fire's Pyre blog says:

I saw Joe Vitale speak about ho'oponopono about 4 years ago back before his book Zero Limits was written. He did this exercise where he had people brainstorm up all of these ideas on a white board and then he told us that none of that stuff ever matters because what really matters is inspiration and going back to a clean whiteboard.

Then he said that he didn't know what he was going to talk about that day, it was going to come from inspiration.

Indeed, Mr. Fire seems to really like whiteboards, and once he even invented something called Divine Whiteboard Meditation. Of course Joe is not the only New-Wage speaker who loves to scribble on whiteboards and flip-chart pads. His good buddy James Ray, to name just one random example that simply popped into my head unbidden, did a fair amount of stage scribbling too, back when he was allowed to have public events. If there's any justice in the world, those days are over, but you never know.

Recycled shtick or not, Joe's TLC talk really inspired Pervlina, who wrote that he quickly got the idea to perform a 30-day trial of "acting on inspiration whenever it hits me, whether it has to do with content creation or some other idea." The very same day he heard Joe's talk, Steve was in his hotel room around 8 PM, and a stray thought popped into his head: why not put an auction off a 60-minute consultation on eBay?

At first he considered putting the idea on the back burner till he got back home to Vegas the following week. But then he stopped and smacked himself, possibly enjoying the rare opportunity to be both D and s simultaneously (or perhaps more accurately, S and M), and he decided he needed to catch the wave now and not let it pass.

So, no doubt still atingle from that sound self-smacking, he dove into action and reactivated an old eBay account. He wrote a quickie blog post, which also fed to his Twitter and Facebook pages, about the hot new auction item. "Imagine that," he wrote. "Less than an hour after getting the idea, it was already up and running." A few minutes after the posting, he was Skyping about it with ex-wife Erin, who said she loved the idea. "Beats the hell out of that old polyamory scheme of yours, anyway," she said. (Oh, not really. That was uncalled for. I'm sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you. I love you.) 

Anyway, Erin checked the auction and informed him that the item was already up to $51.00. By Steve's bed time it had reached $132.50, by the next morning it was $425.00, and as the day progressed it hit $1,000.00. "There are still 3 days left till the auction closes," wrote Steve on his July 27 post. "I can't predict where it will end up."

The important lesson concerned riding the waves of inspiration as they come rolling in, which, Steve warned, he fully intended to do.

In any event, you may see some rather erratic behavior from me in the coming weeks. I’m extending this trial across all areas of my life, both personally and professionally. It’s a 24/7 commitment with no breaks except those that occur naturally as the inspirational waves ebb.

He shared the exciting news about his auction with several other TLC'ers, including his fellow content machine Joe Vitale. He whipped them all into a lather about the idea, and Joe was apparently so overwrought that he was inspired to tweet about it: "Sparked by my talk yesterday, he took action: 60-minute consult w Steve Pavlina" (and Joe provided a link to the auction page). Steve wrote that throughout the rest of the conference people would check in with him to see how the auction was going. "I think they were just as curious as I was," he wrote, meaning that more than likely the light bulb$ had blinked on in their own heads. 

But alas, spoilsport eBay soon removed the posting. In a blog post titillatingly titled "Spanked by eBay" (he is nothing if not thematically consistent), Steve explained the situation. Still, he seemed undeterred from his 30-day, 24/7 inspiration experiment.

Don't blame the Universe
New-Wage gurus do love to go on about acting on "inspiration" at the moment it hits you, rather than waiting to act, because, after all, the Universe loves greed... I mean, speed. The gurus are basically preaching and teaching impulse buying, which of course helps line their pockets, but they generally frame it as advice to be open to messages from Spirit or God or the Universe or what have you. Apropos of that, ethics columnist Randy Cohen recently wrote, "...when you hear a voice that says it's the universe speaking, a bit of skepticism is appropriate. It may well be a crank call from your self-interest." (Here's a link; the quotation is in the answer to the second question.) Of course many a New-Wage narcissist would not make any distinction at all between the Universe and one's own yearning self, so Mr. Cohen's point is probably moot for them.

I don't believe I am the only one who thinks that any talk about being in a state of "inspiration" 24/7, even for a 30-day trial period, is just as bogus as the implication that it is possible to live in a state of complete "wakefulness" if you follow the advice on a product that the person making that claim just happens to be selling. You can be completely "awake" or "inspired" for brief periods, perhaps. Over the long haul, you can be "awake" in some areas of your life and dead to the world in others. (Why, you can even market entire courses purporting to teach people how to be "Awakened," including a product about The Awakened Relationship... and still be apparently asleep at the wheel when there is major discontent brewing under your very nose. Or, alternatively, totally awake but just focused more on money than on love. I'm just sayin'. (And here's a small visual, by the way.))

Regarding "inspiration" in the sense that I think Pervlina is talking about it, I doubt that it is possible to live in that state on a continued, non-stop basis for any appreciable length of time, and still function in this world, no matter what the gurus tell you, though I suppose it is possible to convince yourself that you are doing so. Somewhat related to this, a friend of mine turned me on to the very interesting You Are Not So Smart blog, which pokes a hole in some of our favorite delusions.

But let's get back to the Cartel before I get too sidetracked.

More wisdom from the content machine
Pervlina’s "Inspirational Week" blog post about the TLC is full of numerous other gems. For example, he 'splains the exclusivity of the Cartel gatherings by noting: “One of the most important elements is that we do this away from the public eye, sans fans and critics alike, so we can keep the energy very positive and loving but also honest and real.”

I'm sure that some of the bidness deals that are struck there are quite real, anyway. We can be pretty certain that attendees trade frauduct ideas along with their hugs, laughter, and tears. Pass me that joint venture, my friend, and I'll take a deep hit and pass it on. In his review of the new Julia Roberts movie Eat Pray Love, Houston Chronicle film reviewer Mick LaSalle made an observation about the rather contrived nature of the spiritual quest that forms the basis of the story: "Thinly veiled in Eastern robes, Eat Pray Love is the ultimate American success story, in which every warm human contact becomes grist for commerce." That could easily be said about the TLC as well, and for that matter, about many of the personal interactions that occur in the New-Wage/McSpirituality industry.

But I cannot help wondering if damage control has been a topic at all since Sweatgate happened, or if the ethics of the New-Wage way of doing business are seriously discussed, or are these issues just ignored? I'd welcome insights about this from anyone inside or outside the TLC.

Another amusing bit was Steve's observation about the motives of his fellow TLC members.

I can’t say I’ve encountered anyone there who does this kind of work for the money. If such a person exists, I’ve never met him/her. Even the ones who teach about wealth and abundance seem to be primarily motivated by the love of the work and the desire to contribute. The truth is that it breaks their hearts when they see people suffering from lack, and they want to do what they can to alleviate suffering and spread more happiness and abundance.
I think if you got to know the people behind the scenes as I have, you’d feel immensely grateful for them. Even when they’re dealing with major personal and professional challenges, they just keep giving, giving, giving. Maybe their contributions aren’t perfect, but they do the best they can.

Oh, yeah, I'm sure they do. By the way, in this post Steve makes a passing (or perhaps passive-aggressive) mention of Tony Robbins' now-failed "reality" TV show. Tony is arguably the most successful "name" in the industry, and is notably absent from the TLC roles. Was he not invited, or simply not interested? Deep Pockets Chopra isn't there either. Numerous other big names seem to be missing as well.

Have you driven a Ford lately?
Speaking of Mr. Fire, he's another one who likes to name-drop TLC. While all of us critics and haters and losers were still hanging out in the Salt mines jawing about the World Cupple (Joe+Pat), Joe himself was being charmed and bedazzled at the TLC gathering, and was, least in his own mind, being equally charming and bedazzling. He has long professed to be an admirer of Chopra protege Debbie Ford, author of numerous books about topics such as the Shadow Self.* He seems to have a major crush on her, and you can hardly blame him because she is pretty darn cute. But now it has come to light, so to speak, that the Shadow Queen admires him too. Writes Joe:

I loved relaxing with her, talking, sharing, and playing. When we met, she looked at me and said, “You’re gorgeous.” As if that compliment could be topped, one of the most flattering moments is when she said she wanted to co-lead a workshop with me.

Imagine how this feels: a great teacher I’ve studied wants to share the stage with me. (!)

I keep telling people that as long as you keep working on yourself, your life will blossom. Teachers I’ve studied years ago when I was broke, are now partners, peers and pals of mine. Many of them are in TLC.

Do I even have to tell you that the words "keep working on yourself" link to Joe's Miracles Coaching scheme? And do I even have to mention that in Joe's case, "working on yourself" has meant, for the most part, aggressively working the hustledork/Internet Marketing circle jerk?

In any case it's clear that he is seriously kissing up to Debbie Ford, because there's a picture of the two of them together, and that pic links to...get this...Debbie's site. This would be NBD except for the fact that there are two other photos in the same post, and they link, as do the vast majority of pics on his blog, to Joe's Extract Money Now book site – which in turn is little more than a promotional piece for the "Mormon boiler room" (as Salty Droid would put it) that Joe's House o'Miracles-Coaching has become. Speaking of that, here's a link to the tale of one person's interesting experience with Joe's Miracles Coaching. I have a feeling we'll be reading a lot more about this stuff soon.

Given Joe's past history of accuracy, you have to wonder how the exchanges with Debbie Ford at the Cartel meeting really went down. I imagine that in many cases, "I'd love to do a workshop with you" is the h-dork equivalent of "Let's do lunch some time." I'm thinking that the Shadow Queen may yet regret the friendly overtures she made to Mr. Fire at the TLC gathering, much as, according to a rumor I once heard, she regretted tossing him a crumb of praise during a private conversation in the past.

But even if she does end up ruing the day she ever allegedly told him he was gorgeous, I imagine no real harm will be done. After all, the New-Wage/selfish-help/McSpirituality industry is an easy-come, easy-go world of "friendships" and alliances that can turn on a dime, or, more accurately, on the promise of a lucrative joint-venture deal or the agreement to share a few hundred thousand mailing list names. Point being that if the James Ray debacles could be swept under the TLC rug so easily, as they apparently have been... and if someone like Bill Harris is still a member in good standing at TLC, for gosh sakes... anything else can be swept away as well. Hugs, tears, intimate sharing at the clandestine confabs...and then it's off to the next scheme. Business as usual.**

It is indeed a magic circle jerk, and the circle remains essentially unbroken despite the calamities that have hit the industry over the past year. The real purpose of the TLC's existence couldn't be more clearly expressed than it is on the blurb on their web site:

The Transformational Leadership Council was founded so leaders of personal and organizational transformation could support each other in their contributions to the world.

Sounds like a cartel to me! But at least the TLC'ers aren't running around pissing on redwoods or dallying with for-hire gay boy-toys.
Well, at least not that I know of.

PS ~ Speaking of cartels (or syndicates, if you will), The Salty Droid really nailed it in his August 12 post, illuminating not only the business models employed in Internet marketing but also in the frequently-overlapping "transformational" racket.

* One of my own critics advised me last year that I need to own up to the darkness in myself and that reading Debbie Ford's books would be helpful in this regard. This person was obviously unaware that I claim and actually like my shadow self. Or at least I like my shadow, particularly when it looms large on the moonlit wall at night, like an Amazonian Cosmic Connie. Those giant cat shadows that sometimes sneak up behind the big CC are kind of unnerving, though.

** 23 August 2010: Those of you who have been following this post from the time I first published it may notice that I have deleted a brief passage about Julia Rogers Hamrick's book, Choosing Easy World. I can see how people reading the original passage might have thought that the mention of the book in this context was an implication that Ms. Hamrick is a TLC member. At the very least it was an implication that she is peripherally part of the "circle jerk" the post reviles. After conversations with Julia's husband Rick, whose comments appear in the discussion section of this post, I believe it is possible that I have unfairly painted her and her work with my "broad brush strokes," and I think she and Rick deserve better than this. For the record, Ms. Hamrick is not a TLC member at this time, and, whatever one might think about the concept of "Easy World," this author does not appear to be in the same sorry league as many of my snark targets. For further discussion about all of this, hurry on over to the "Comments" section.

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Whirled Musings is four today!*

Four years ago today, inspired largely by having participated in Steve Salerno's SHAMblog, I decided to create a Whirled of my own in the blogosphere. And so it was that I sat down and typed out a tentative blog post. And on the second day, I created a less tentative post. And then I was off and snarking.

It has been a fun four years, and I'm shooting for a few more.

To celebrate this momentous anniversary, the Universe has blessed the oceans of my Whirled with more snark chum than all of us together could possibly consume in one sitting, so I'll just share a couple of tasty bits with you here before I go off to celebrate my Fourth Blogaversary (actually, to concentrate on my real work for a while...but I can celebrate for a few moments, anyway!).

To begin with, Mr. Fire published a blog post today about the five biggest Law of Attraction mistakes. He wrote:

Truth is, there are many mistakes when it comes to using the Law of Attraction. It’s usually because most people don’t have a complete understanding of it. They saw the movie The Secret and thought they got it, when all they got was an introduction to it.

Oh, dear. Mr. Fire has apparently forgotten that when The Secret first came out, it was widely promoted, on the official site and elsewhere, as containing the ultimate answer and having all of the information you need to get whatever you want. Of course we couldn't realistically have expected that claim to last, not when there were so many derivative products and frauducts to be sold.

So what's the biggest Law of Attraction mistake a body can make? As might be expected, Mr. Fire did not say, "Believing in that whole Secret scam in the first place." According to Joe, Mistake Number 1 is believing that all you have to do is imagine what you want, and you'll get it. Not so, says Mr. Fire. Here's the truth:

Imagining what you want is a great way to program your unconscious but it’s only a first step. You still have work to do. That’s where the Law of Right Action comes into play. Do something to assist the attraction of what you want. Rhonda Byrne created the movie The Secret with more than the Law of Attraction;** she didn’t just sit and dream about it. She took action.*** (She’s taken more action recently, as her next book, The Power, will be out in August.****)

This from the man who, in The Secret, famously likened the Universe to a mail order catalog:

“This is really fun. It’s like having the Universe as your catalog. You flip through it and say, ‘I’d like to have this experience and I’d like to have that product and I’d like to have a person like that. It’s your placing your order with the Universe. It’s really that easy.”

And he even put that snippet on his own video blog, so he must have been seriously promoting that point of view.

LOA Mistake Number 2, according to Joe, is using the Law of Attraction to try to attract a specific person. Don't do it, warns Mr. Fire, explaining, "Trying to attract a specific person is a violation of free will." This is from the guy who also sells products that claim to teach you how to put all of your prospects into a "buying trance" so they will do your bidding (he even wrote a book about it). I guess it's okay to violate someone's free will when you have a frauduct to sell.

I found Mr. Fire's choice for Mistake Number 3 – focusing solely on the material – interesting as well:

Focusing on the material, in attracting new cars [and here he provides a link to his ubiquitous Attract A New Car gimmick] and more cash, is fine, as long as you know it’s a temp high and a mask for the real juice of life: the Divine. Don’t focus on the car, but on the feeling behind the car. That is Divine.

Lesson assimilated, Mr. Fire. Maybe you'll learn it one day yourself. Meanwhile, it's hard not to notice how desperately many of the New-Wage hustledorks seem to need those new cars and more cash and so on in order to capture that "juice of life." And it's hard to overlook the whole vision-board thing that has been so popular with LOA true believers. Seems that little exercise is all about the material, not to mention being really kind of juvenile. Or, as Salty Droid put it recently on his blog:

...because poster boards with magazine cut-outs aren’t just for 6th grade science projects and serial killers anymore {yes they are!! f--k sake …}.

So enough about that. The really, really BIG piece of snark chum is that NBC has chosen Whirled Musings' birthday to debut yet another "reality" show. This one is from the world's all-time most successful hustledork, Tony Robbins. Even TV Guide is rolling its eyes:

Cheers & Jeers: Tony Robbins? Gimme a Break!

Jeers to NBC for turning over an hour of primetime to a glorified infomercial.

The Peacock has flirted with the equivalent of self-help ads (The Biggest Loser, Losing It With Jillian), but the net has truly crossed the line with Breakthrough with Tony Robbins, an hourlong series debuting July 27 at 8/7c. That's right, "author, strategist and coach" Robbins—who was mocked as a charlatan nearly 20 years ago on The Ben Stiller Show ("I hypnotize you with my teeth, and you pay me money!")—is now a network-TV star.

In the series' premiere, Robbins helps Ron and Marie Stegner back from the brink of bankruptcy and divorce by presenting them with "challenges" like flying a Russian MIG fighter ("I don't know any other housewife doing a flip in a jet," says Marie) and living on L.A.'s skid row for a week. Of course, viewers can't perform these kinds of stunts, but they might buy Robbins' books, DVDs or CDs to gobble up more of his banalities ("Own Your Breakthrough!"). As Marie puts it when she's sleeping on the street (with a camera crew in tow, natch), "This is reality." No, this is reality TV—there's a big difference.

I couldn't have said it better myself.

That's it for now. I promise you I'm continuing to sort through the swirling chum and will serve up some more very soon. Meanwhile I want to thank every one of you – even those of you who don't like me so much – for your part in making this blog what it is. Here's to at least four more fun-filled years.

* I know it's my Blogaversary and all, but really, you don't have to get me a gift. But if you insist... the "Donate" button is conveniently located up there at the top of the page.
** That's right, Mr. Fire! Rhonda didn't just use LOA to create The Secret. She used the partially unpaid labor of creative and talented people as well.
*** Rhonda took action, all right: legal action, mostly, against the people who had actually done the real creative and marketing work and just wanted their fair share of what she'd promised them.
**** Well, after all, she does have those legal bills to pay.